All The Colours Of The Sunrise Poem by Mark. A Heathcote

Some say her complexion is as white as marble.
Others say that her skin is jet-black
Some say it's red—no, wait, it's yellow.
Some say her skin is a rich, earthly brown.
Like the browning petals on a peace lily
That she was made in heaven for heaven
Plucked like a bloom from the ground.

Some say her eyes are sky blue.
Others that they're of an emerald green
Others that they're brown—a buried treasure
Or even a gleaming, tearful jade-black.
But she/I am not ever looking back.
There are no colours to define our love.
Our love is colour-blind;
Plucked like a bloom from the mud.